


Remember, Remember

by Skiewrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Blue Paladin Allura (Voltron), Character Death, Death, Gen, Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Spoilers, maybe? - Freeform, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skiewrites/pseuds/Skiewrites
Summary: Remember, remember the fifth of NovemberGunpowder, treason and plotI see no reason why gunpowder treasonShould ever be forgotThe Paladins of Voltron should have paid a closer attention to the stories, as history has a tendency to repeat itself.





	Remember, Remember

_‘Those who cannot **remember** the past are condemned to  **repeat**  it.’_

_They can never say how they were never warned of what was to come. They were told, they were forewarned, but they did nothing but watch._

* * *

 

_Remember, remember the fifth of November_

_Gunpowder, treason and plot_

_I see no reason why gunpowder treason_

_Should ever be forgot_

* * *

 

Lance was never one to hide his love for Coran’s stories.

The guy was a natural born storyteller! The way that he was effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone around him when he started on one of these tangents was awe-inspiring in Lance’s eyes, even when it wasn’t the time nor the place for them. He had almost a millennium worth of stories under his belt, and every single one of them were worth staying up late into the cycle with him, glazing at the star map, the suppose location of Coran’s story brought up for them to see.

Well, almost all of his stories were like that.

Lance sighed as he leaned back against Blue’s barrier, facing away from the Lion. She still wouldn’t let him in, so instead he pondered over what the story of the previous Paladins brought to the table, because even though it had been told to them months ago at this point, he couldn’t get them out of his head, Coran’s words echoing in his head.

They sounded cool enough at least, and obviously held a lot of respect to be remembered so well by aliens 10’000 decapheobs down the line, though, they may have gotten their information from the hieroglyphs from the walls of cliffs that they are shown every other planet. But, Alfor did try and kill them when he haunted them, something that Lance knew that he was going to be holding on to that forever, no matter what the others would say about how Sendak corrupted the Castleship with his mind. That didn't even begin to describe everything wrong that Zarkon has done in the past 10'000 decapheobs, even if he was practically a space zombie instead of the normal Galra Emperor that Alfor met 10’000 decapheobs ago.

Lance sighed again. Alfor, the Red Paladin, and Zarkon, the Black Paladin, were supposed to have been best friends, despite the many, _many_ , differences the two had. Keith and Shiro had a similar relationship, back when their first formed Voltron, but, Lance would never say that he had been Keith's best friend while the Mullet held the position of the Black Paladin. However, he would definitely say that their relationship had been preferable compared to his relationship with the current Black Paladin, if you could even call it that, since Lance was so unimportant that he was talked over and his caution ignored, which has never been Shiro's style before.

He couldn't help but feel there was something up with Shiro, not that Shiro shared much with him the first place.

(Shiro’s changed so much since he’s got back. Lance hoped he was okay.)

Standing up, Lance turned around to look at Blue, frowning slightly at her dark eyes through the barriers. He wanted everything to go back to the way it would be, back to their normal Lions, back to just fight the Galra and not anything that they were currently doing with Lotor. Summoning his bayard, he looked at the way that the red stood out against the white, and couldn't help but feel a wave of sorrow wash over him at the thought of how blue looked a lot more mellow and less angry.

As he made his way to the training deck, he wondered why he was still the Red Paladin, when his Black Paladin had ran off who knows where while the current Black Paladin clearly didn't trust him enough to get the support that he needed from his right hand man.

No wonder why Voltron was falling apart.

 

* * *

 

_Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent_

_To blow up the King and the Parliament_

_Three score barrels of powder below_

_Poor old England to overthrow_

 

* * *

 

Hunk was the first to think that something was up, again.

He wasn’t always the first to think that something was up, but when he did think that something was up, when he was the first person to think that something was up, then there was something up because he was prideful in the fact he was never the person who was wrong when they said that they thought something was up.

(That job was Keith's, but that was because he was suspicious of everyone and therefore he was just setting himself up to lose that imaginary battle of who was better at judging people, not that he knew it was a competition of course.)

Then again, maybe it wasn’t a good thing to be the first to think that something was up.

He’s usually quiet during meetings like this, having nothing to add to it that would improve the plan or the situation that Voltron found them elves in, and instead he watched. He watched as his team fell apart at the seams, how Pidge was quieter than she was back at the Garrison, how Allura was spending more and more time away from the team and with Lotor, how Lance spent more time in the training room than he did on his appearance or making sure that the others looked after themselves by making sure that they goofed off with him.

Hunk wants to be able to say that he is the only one unchanged, but even he has noticed the fact that he now spends more time down in his workroom on three projects at a time than he does cooking and relaxing, something that he knows that the others miss.

He tries to get on with things, to work on being a diplomat with the Galra that had decided to follow behind Lotor, and therefore follow behind Voltron, but then Lance makes an off hand comment of not being the best Red Paladin for the job, and while he frowns and tries to boost Lance's moral at the time, he makes sure to pay closer attention to Lance and Shiro in meetings, taking a mind note of the times that they disagree with point, how Shiro doesn't take into account of what Lance is trying to point out, always going to either Lotor or Allura for advice when Lance was always available, how Voltron was suddenly so much harder to form, and suddenly, Hunk understands what Lance is trying to say.

Shiro, the same person that refused to leave Lance behind when he was blown up, the same person that complemented every shot that the Cuban successfully takes, no longer trusted him.

He goes straight to Pidge.

She'll know what to do.

 

* * *

 

_By God's providence he was catched_

_With a dark lantern and burning match_

_Holloa boys, holloa boys_

_God save the King!_

 

* * *

 

Pidge looked away from her laptop, running some code over the latest files that Lotor had given over in hope to find anything about their latest mole, battered and scratched from their time in space. She’ll need to make a new one soon, perhaps one with integrated Altean and Galran keys to make coding that more simpler.

“What do you mean ‘you have a bad feeling about Shiro’? He’s our leader, and has been from the start, why on Earth would you have a bad feeling about him Hunk?” The Yellow Paladin didn’t look up from his own screen, more focused on making sure the blueprints for the rebels were perfect before sending them out.

“I mean, I don’t know, he just seems… difference since he’s got back. He’s shorter with us, snaps at everyone for anything they do wrong-”

“That’s just his PTSD Hunk, you can't blame him for that!” She replied, looking back over at her coding, and frowned when she saw that nothing came up, much to her surprised. Something should have come up by now, they went through the entire Galra database. There had to be something.

_Are the Galra the only people who are threats?_

Pidge’s eyes widened at Green’s suggestion, before revisiting the code, and making it check every single database that had been uploaded onto the Castleship, like the rebel’s thanks to Matt (not that she thought any of them were the mole but security), the Galran again (just to double check), the druids files that Allura requested for her magical (pff, magic, seriously? They were in space and they had _magic?_ ) purposes, even the Castleship’s files were now under scrutiny just to make sure that this mole was caught.

Because that’s Shiro wanted, demanded, that they get caught.

“There’s a difference from PTSD and completely ignoring our recommendations Pidge! Even everything first started, when we first went through that wormhole in Blue, he said we were a team, that we do everything together! Now, now he’s always siding with Lotor, we do what Lotor wants to do, even when Lance, of all people, advices against it. Lance, who is supposed to be his right-hand man, is yelled for expressing what he thinks should happen. Say what you want about Shiro’s PTSD, but he does not yell like that.” Hunk explained, finally looking away from the screen and right at Pidge, who couldn’t help but frown herself at Hunk’s words, and find that he was right while she stared at the screen as the code continued on with its task, sighing at the length of time it was taking to search through all the files.

(Hunk was always right with these sort of things, something that she knew that he prided himself and thus didn’t want to tell him.)

(Maybe, when this was all over, she’ll let him say ‘I told you so’.)

“Okay, so Shiro is acting differently. What does this mean for us?” Pidge looked up in time to see Hunk’s shrug, her eyes not straying from the older’s chest, watching it rise and fall while his mind raced with thought.

“Shiro wasn’t always the leader.” He mutters, typing at a slower speed than normal as he utters the words, giving off a mutinous vibe.

They don’t talk about the time where Keith was in charge, for some reason, as if they’re avoiding something…

“Well, it’s not like Keith wants to come back from the Blade any time soon. If he did want anything to do with us, then he’ll reply to Lance’s failing attempts at contact.” She replied, and went to go talk about Keith’s lack of contact with them, it had been so long since they had last seen him too, before the laptop let off a couple of cash machine sound effects, making her smile widely and click on the new window that had appeared.

_CLASSIFIED: PROJECT KURON_

It didn’t take long before her eyes widened and the smile to drop of her face, her breath to speed up slightly and for her to suddenly stand up after hours of sitting and coding, trying to find the answers they now have in front of her.

“Is everything alright? Have you found out who the mole is?” Hunk asked, also standing. Pidge’s jaw unintentionally tensed before relaxing it slightly, just enough to get the word out.

“We need to contact Keith, get him here asap, Lance as well. We’re having a group meeting.” Pidge muttered before getting rid of any evidence that she had accessed the file, bringing multiple more up in their place, more boring and useless files of meaningless information, outdated information, things that meant nothing to Voltron at this point in the war.

“A group meeting? Okay, but what about Shiro, and Allura? Surely they should be here too?” Pidge shook her head.

“Allura is far too close to Lotor at this point, we can't risk anything getting to him, meaning that nothing can be told to her. And, for Shiro, well, he is what the meeting is about.”

 

* * *

 

_Hip hip hooray._

_Hip hip hooray._

 

* * *

 

Shiro started at the ceiling of his dorm, blinked, and then stared some more.

The plan was simple, in his mind at least.

Find shelter out of the cold, then go back to Voltron and get back to being the Black Paladin, pilot of the Black Lion.

It had been harder in practice.

Not that it mattered anymore, he’s done all that now.

He’s the Black Paladin, as well as Black’s pilot again, but it was so much different now. Allura flied Blue and Lance was in Red and he supposed that left Keith with Black, but Black was his. He didn’t want to have to fight to have his Lion back, especially since she didn’t even want him to be piloting her.

But then Keith ran off to the Blades, leaving Black alone to either watch her team die or to let Shiro be her pilot again.

He was glad that the Lion saw reason.

So now he had done everything they were set out to do. They weren’t even at war with the Galra anymore, there was no more need for the full out fighting, only to help out now in the small squabbles that occur and to spread the message of Voltron's idea of peace and prosperity.

But, he had a purpose, right?

He wondered about what that purpose was, until his head began to hurt again, and he wondered if he should talk to Lance about it. Lance would know what to do...

_No._

_Negative Kuron._

_No._

_Don't tell anyone Kuron._

_No._

He frowned, blinked again, and instead turned his thoughts towards what the latest intel said about the rebel groups, what they said about the Blade, and about the whisper of the thoughts of there being a mole.

There couldn't be a mole though. Everyone was trustworthy, having been by their side since before the first attack on Zarkon.

Maybe he should talk to Lance about it...

_No._

_Negative Kuron._

_No._

_Don't tell anyone Kuron._

_No._

He felt confused. Why shouldn't he talk to Lance? He trusted Lance....

_You don't trust the Red Paladin._

_The Red Paladin goes against your decisions._

_You are in charge of Voltron, not the Red Paladin._

_The Red Paladin answers to you, you don't answer to him._

Shiro nodded along.

He doesn’t trust the Red Paladin.

He has no reason to, not after he went against him on so many occasions. He doesn’t need to know about the mole either.

Who know, he might even be the mole.

_Yes._

_Positive Kuron._

_Yes._

_Tell someone Kuron._

_Tell everyone Kuron._

Sitting up quickly, he thought about it, about how everything seemed to add up, about the way that the Red Paladin always argued against everything he did, always wanting to go against Lotor's ideas, how he wanted to wait and spoke of caution in times that required dire action, and it all seemingly fell into place.

_Tell everyone Kuron._

_Yes._

_Tell the Paladins, Kuron._

He walked towards the door, inputted the code to leave it, and then walked out, already having turned the corner by the time the door could close again.

It’s not before Shiro stops halfway through a corridor and looks around, noting that the direction he was going in was towards the hangers, where he knew Pidge and Hunk would currently be.

Why was he going towards the hangers again?

He clutches his head in his head in his hands, suddenly feeling light-headed and dizzy, confused as to what exactly he should do, what he was doing before, but the only thing that came up in Shiro’s mind was the idea of the Red Paladin.

The Red Paladin… Lance…

He should go find Lance. Lance should know what to do.

 

* * *

 

_A penny loaf to feed ol' Pope_

_A farthing cheese to choke him_

_A pint of beer to rinse it down_

_A faggot of sticks to burn him_

* * *

 

“What about the real Shiro?”

“I’m not sure, but, quite frankly, this clone, let’s call him Kuron for now, needs to be dealt with first, before we even begin to speculate where our Shiro is.” Keith nodded to Pidge’s words, and thought about what to do next.

He had been the last to be informed of the new information, of the idea that not only was the Shiro in the ship not the real Shiro, but also the mole that the Blades, rebels, and Voltron stumped, though, not that him knowing this information made too much difference, since he was away from the castle and wasn’t really there anymore to see how bad it had gotten.

He never thought that he’d regret leaving the Castleship, leaving the Paladins, leaving his family, but as he stared at the screen, stared at Pidge’s eye bags and Hunk’s worry lines and Lance’s sorrowful teal eyes, something crawls into his chest and it _hurts_.

He should have stayed. He should have listened to Allura, should have fought for the position of the Black Paladin, should have argued more against Shiro’s plans and ideas for the collision, should have said no to Kolivan about taking on more missions, because if he had stayed _none of this would have happened._

If he hadn’t run off like he always does, head first into danger and death, then he would have stopped Hunk from worrying himself to death the way that he was, would have made sure that Pidge wasn’t overworked to the point that her eyes seemed dry and ready to crack like the ground of the desert, Lance would be the same happy going person that supported him despite their rocky start.

If he hadn’t had run off like he did, then he would be there to help them with this.

They didn’t deserve to be alone for this.

“What are we going to do about this ‘Kuron’ then?” Keith finally asked, frowning slightly as the trio shared looks with each other, before Lance finally answered his question.

“Well, no one knows outside of us four, not even Allura, not yet, though I think you could understand why. Our first thought was to tell you, but other than that…” He trails off, looking away from the camera and rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed at his words, or his lack of forethought of the situation, not that Keith would blame him.

The first instinct would have been to go to Shiro. He was their Black Paladin, their leader, calm and patient and seemingly knew just what to do to make the best of the situation.

They couldn’t go to Shiro, not this time.

 _You were the Black Paladin once. You could do so again_.

The voice was soothing, and Keith spent a little time wondering how the Black Lion could project their thoughts across the universe like they did, but he quickly gave up the thought and let them wash over him, and he could almost feel their mind brush over their memories, their experiences, their pains, and their worries.

(They wouldn’t want me back. Not after this.)

“Okay then, I’ll tell Kolivan that the mole has been located, and will be dealt with soon, but there’s not much I can do from here-”

“Come back to Voltron Keith.” Lance cut in, the words causing Keith to gape in shock at the other boy while the other two nodded in agreement. “We need to take care of Kuron, but we need to do so as a team. To work as a team, we need our Black Paladin back.” He says, putting a soft smile on his face, which was somehow the most beautiful and dazzling smile that Keith has ever seen.

He had forgotten how good of a Red Paladin Lance was.

He nods without words, and quickly cuts off the channel, and felt a slight pang of sadness go through him at the sudden loss of contact, which was quickly overwhelmed by the excitement of going back, as well as the worry about Kuron, and the building fire in his chest at the knowledge of the future confrontation.

He leaves the room without a glance back (there was nothing to pack, everything was already on his person), and quickly finds Kolivan on the main deck, talking to Krolia about something, probably just filling her in on what had happened with the Blades since the last time she was here.

 “Voltron have found the mole.” He states from the doorway, not risking moving closer to the pair. Krolia looked confused for a second, but then suddenly worried about the information, but Kolivan was as stoic as ever.

“What are they going to do about it?” A simple question at face value, but there was a hint of curiosity, mainly at the knowledge of where Voltron draw the line, and a hard line at that.  Keith simply shrugs as an answer.

“I’ll give you an update when it’s all over.” He replies, and then turns to go down to the hangers, but Krolia voice stops him in his tracks.

“Your leaving?” Keith turns around, maybe more violently than he should have, and glared at the older woman.

There are something people he regrets leaving behind, but, as he takes in the sadness etched into the Galra’s frown, he knew for a fact that she would not be one of these people.

“Well, Voltron are going to be needing a Black Paladin after all this is over and done with.” He responded blankly, not feeling one bit sorry for the bitterness and edge in his voice. A nod from Kolivan had him turning around and walking away.

He didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

_Burn him in a tub of tar_

_Burn him like a blazing star_

_Burn his body from his head_

_Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead._

 

* * *

 

Lance raced down the hall.

The plan was stupid, utterly hideous, like all of Keith’s plans were, but because Lance couldn’t think of any way to improve the given plan or, better yet, come up with an entirely new plan that had better outcomes, they were going to have to go with this stupid plan.

He was the sharpshooter for crying out loud! His job was to firmly stay _out_ of all the action, look from a high point, watch, and then take the shot that saved his teammates’ life. With all that in mind, he should not have been given the position of distracting the enemy (don’t think of him as Shiro, he wasn’t Shiro) while Keith lugged his arse over here and help Hunk and Pidge with Phase Two of the plan, which was making this imposter, clone, whatever, admit to that he has been spying on them, acting as the mole inside Voltron, and then they restrain/capture/contain him (somehow, Lance isn’t too sure what Keith has planned for that) and then…

And then…

Lance sighed as he ran, his breath coming out in short puffs and his hair now sticking to his helmet with sweat in a way he knew would not look cool when he took it off, and he shook his head of the thought as he overheard Hunk’s muttering of frustration over the private com line that Pidge set up for the four of them.

When Keith got back, they were going to have to talk about the idea of fully formed plans that have at least a half chance of succeeding without having to rely on luck.

He turns a corner, almost skidding on the smooth surface of the Castleship’s polished floor, and continues running towards the Paladin’s quarters. The mole/phony/copycat had said that he was going to catch some shut eye (he never worded it like that, but Shiro would have) at dinner, but also mentioned that he might be going down to the training deck if it turned out that he couldn’t sleep (Shiro would have never mentioned his insomnia so openly).

(Why didn’t they notice beforehand?)

(There were so many clues… So many hints…)

(They should have seen this coming.)

(He should have seen this coming?)

There’s another corner coming up, so Lance prepares himself like he has so many times before. He braces himself for when he stops running and starts gliding across the smooth metal floor, takes a deep breath as the light that he has marked as his x-marks-the-spot quickly approaches, and just as he passes the point, he stops running, places his feet firmly on the ground, and changes his centre of gravity to lean back against his velocity, slow his acceleration by creating a larger resistance force than his current retardant force, and he smiles despite the situation, because no matter how many times he does this, getting the satisfaction of getting this right every time never wears off.

Then he collides into it, his momentum being enough to send the pair of them flying.

Great. So not only did he fail to make an epic slide, but now he crashed into the spy/imitator/replica, and boy did he looked annoyed.

“Oh, hey Shiro!” Lance smiled, but it was fake, it was all fake, he hated the fake. “Didn’t see you there.” The truth this time. The truth was preferable. The truth was good.

“You really should watch where your going Lance, you could have really hurt yourself.” It responds, and it seems such a typical response, like when you play a game and it tries to pretend that the NPC cares about what is going on but the coder is so tired and high on red bull that they put the first thing that comes to mind and really shows that they, in fact, do not gave a single flying fuck.

It doesn’t care.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Lance mutters as he gets himself up, dusts himself off, before noting that it was still on the ground and, therefore, he had to help the fake/fake/fake up. Sighing, he offered a hand towards it, and it smiled (FAKE) and lets itself be helped, slowly getting to his feet.

“Actually, I was wanting to talk to you.” It says, and Lance tilts his head to his side, hearing the other two Paladins talk, Allura’s down there now, confused but being informed of what is going on, Keith is on his way, giving Pidge and Hunk instructions and advice that he cannot here.

It was just him and it, for now.

“Really, aww, Shiro, is there something you want to admit?” Lance teases, but was it really teasing? He can hear Pidge snap at him for his words, saying not to tease it, not to give it an opening like that. Lance can’t reply, but he takes her word to heart, his hand now hovering at the small little section that can cause him to summon his bayard. It notices, and Lance notices that it notices.

He’s the team sharpshooter for a reason.

He brings his other hand to the back of his helmet to make it look like he had an itchy neck, and taps.

. . . - - - . . .

He hears Pidge curse.

“Actually, there is something.” A flare of a purple on his arm, a flash of yellow in his eyes.

It’s a good thing that the sharpshooter always strikes first, hard and fast.

 

* * *

 

_Hip hip hooray._

_Hip hip hooray._

* * *

 

_(They find him vomiting next to the fallen body of the fake.)_

* * *

_Lance remembers the story Coran told well._

_How the Red Paladin was the first to find Voltron, to introduce it to the other Paladins. How the Green Paladin became so focused on their own goal and lost sight of what was in front of them. How the Yellow Paladin tried to keep everyone and everything together, but in doing so he pretended too hard and forgot was true and what wasn’t. How the Black Paladin was the first to turn his sword on his fellow men. How the Blue Paladin pulled the trigger, and how it solved nothing_.

_‘Those who do not learn the **history**  are doomed to **repeat**  it.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so season six will be coming out tomorrow, so here's just some spam stuff I've been working on to entertain you before the new season kills you. 
> 
> Or kills me, whichever happens first I guess :/


End file.
